


Delirium

by zaffrin



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Multi, One-sided Thasmin, Sex Pollen, because... sex pollen, thoschei focused, tropey af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaffrin/pseuds/zaffrin
Summary: “You don't know what it is she’s ingested do you?” Says the Master with a smirk, stepping towards the Doctor. She eyes him warily as he moves closer and it makes Yaz uncomfortable. “What it’s doing to her…” He lifts a hand as he says the words, and lets the backs of his fingers trail softly over her face. The Doctor flinches away, but not quickly enough for her to prevent the moan from tumbling from her lips, her whole body shuddering and lilting towards his. Yaz’s eyes widen, and the Master grins again.“Lamroyx sap,” he announces, “from the lamar plant. Street name: ‘delirium’.”They all glance at each other, confused.“Hmmm, how can I put this simply enough for you apes to understand...” he appears to ponder for a moment before snapping his fingers and proclaiming with a grin: “Sex pollen.”
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 212
Kudos: 494





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Brace yourself for the tropiest of tropes: sex pollen fic.

In the time they’d been travelling with her, Yaz, Graham and Ryan had found that there was a lot of weird things the Doctor did that they’d sort of learnt to just ignore. One such thing, was her habit of putting things in her mouth to find out what they were. Yaz was pretty positive she could not, in fact, find out trip advisor ratings from the taste of the local soil and was probably using her own weird sense of humour, but she did seem to be pretty accurate about more broad facts she could apparently learn from tasting things.

Like the time she’d nibbled on a leaf and proclaimed that there would be a volcanic eruption in the twelve hours - that had been true. And when she’d licked a rock and been able to tell them how far from a town and some food and rest they were when they’d been lost in the outback of the Wild West.

So they’d kind of just learnt to go with it - well, Yaz and Ryan did, Graham was constantly telling her that she shouldn’t put things in her mouth before she knew what they were - and if they were safe. “One of these days you’re gonna eat something dangerous! Then you’ll see,” he’d scold her.

Unfortunately for the Doctor, he turned out to be right.

“So where are we again?” Yaz asks as they step out of the Tardis into what looked like a rain forest.

“Somewhere in the Leimox galaxy,” she announces, chewing a piece of leaf off a tall plant with thorns on the stem. She breaks off a piece from the stem, and strange luminous yellow sap seeps out.

“Woah, that’s… different,” Ryan comments. 

“Hmm,” the Doctor agrees, poking at it. “Thirtieth century I think. Or thirty-first.” She sticks her finger in the sap and straight into her mouth. 

“Oi Doc stop that - how’d you know that’s not poisonous!?” Graham scolds.

“Nah it’s fine,” she waves him off, prodding at the substance again before putting her finger back into her mouth. “Nope, thirtieth.” Noticing some of the sap has dripped down over her hand she licks it off. “And it rained this morning,” she announces, and Yaz rolls her eyes, turning away to take in her surroundings. She has her back turned for approximately five seconds when she hears Ryan give a yell of “Doctor!” followed by a thud, and when she whirls back round, the Doctor is collapsed on the ground.

“Doctor!” She echos, racing to her side. 

“Woah, that was weird!” She exclaims, apparently still coherent at least, as she presses a hand to her head. “Suddenly feel all weird... do I look weird? I feel weird. Is it hot out here? I’m hot... I’m really... really hot...” struggling to sit up, she shrugs out of her coat, tugging at the neck of her shirt and when Yaz lands on her knees beside her she can see that her face is drenched in sweat. 

“Doctor what’s happened!?”

“It’s that bloody plant!” Graham exclaims, hint of panic in his voice. “I told you not to eat that stuff!”

“Alright don’t go on... about - it-“ she pants out, apparently struggling to form words.

“Tardis!” Says Yaz. “Let’s get her inside - there must be something in there that can help her - right Doctor!?”

“Too hot,” the Doctor breathes, wriggling from her braces and yanking at her shirt. “Help me... take this off,” she gasps.

“Woah,” says Ryan as Yaz pries the shirt, halfway over her head, from her hands, pushing it back down. 

“No - Doctor! Leave your clothes on - we’re gonna get you inside the Tardis okay?” 

They manage to get her to her feet and half drag, half carry her into the Tardis, depositing her on the floor by the console.

“How do we help you?” Yaz asks her urgently. “There must be something the Tardis can do?”

“Yaz?” She blinks up at her.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What’s happening?” The Doctor mumbles, looking around with unfocused eyes.

“She’s been poisoned,” Graham breathes, horror in his voice. 

Pulling out her sonic, the Doctor scans herself, letting out a shaky breath when she glances at the readings, smacking her head back against the console with a growl. 

“Not poisoned,” she pants. “Well - kind of poisoned, just not the deadly sort. Well, might be the deadly sort, at least if I don’t -“ she cuts herself off abruptly, looking at them with wide eyes before snapping her gaze away, frowning with a groan. 

“Don’t what?” Yaz asks urgently when she doesn’t continue, and the Doctors wide eyes snap to hers and she shakes her head.

“Can’t,” She says. “I need to be alone.” She makes to stand and Yaz rushes to her side to help her, taking her arm.

“Don’t touch me!” The Doctor snaps and Yaz pulls back her hand like she’s been burnt. 

“S - sorry,” Yaz stammers, taken aback, “I just -“

“You need to stay away from me,” she pants, beads of sweat trickling down her face.

“Is it contagious?” Asks Graham worriedly.

“No, not contagious, just... I just can’t be near,” she lets out a groan, eyes finding Yaz’s again, “god you’re beautiful, have I ever told you that? - No! Need to be alone!” She snaps her eyes shut, pressing her hands to her forehead as the words make Yaz’s stomach flip and her eyes widen.

Her heart pounds as they all look at each other in confusion and worry. 

“Doctor,” says Yaz, squatting down in front of her, careful not to touch her. “We can’t leave you alone like this, tell us how we can help you? There must be... an antidote or something?”

She mumbles something.

“What?”

The Doctor shakily lowers her hands. “Not like you’re thinking.”

Yaz frowns in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean? Just tell us how to help you, please!”

“You can’t,” she shakes her head firmly. “Not you.” With a pained groan, she drags herself to her feet by the console, Yaz hovering helplessly, yearning to support her as she wobbles dangerously on her feet.

“Then who?” Graham. The Doctor looks over him, and the sudden movement seems to make her lose her balance. She staggers against the console, and Yaz lurches forward to grab her before remembering the way she’d snapped at her before and pulling her hands back towards herself, watching worriedly as the Doctor clutches onto the console. 

Her knuckles are white, and she appears to grit her teeth. “Doesn’t matter,” she shakes her head, gripping the console tightly as she breathes labouredly through her nose. “I can fight this. Two hearts. I’ve fought off worse.” Yaz glances at the others who are watching her with as much worry as she feels. 

“Well - if not it’ll be an interesting way to go anyway,” the Doctor mutters as an afterthought. 

“What!?” Ryan blurts out as Yaz’s stomach drops. “What do you mean to go - you ain’t saying this thing can seriously kill you!?”

She glances up at them grimly and they all gasp. 

“Doc no - there must be something that can help you!?”

“Yeah like - like an antidote or something?” Yaz says urgently. 

She shakes her head. “No antidote.”

“But how do you know!?” Yaz tries desperately. 

“ _I know_ ,” she growls. 

“Who can help you then?” Ryan presses. “You said before - ‘not you’ - that must mean there’s somebody who could?”

The Doctor swallows hard, shaking her head. “One person,” she says tightly.“But - no.”

“Why not?” Yaz demands. 

“Because I said so,” the Doctor grinds out. She groans suddenly, clutching onto the console, nearly doubling over. 

“Doc please,” It’s Graham, sounding as distressed as Yaz feels. “Let us help you - tell us what you need!”

She shakes her head, brow furrowed deeply. 

“Doctor,” Yaz begs, tears in her eyes. The Doctor glances up at her, her lips parted and eyes dark, pupils blown wide as sweat trickles down her forehead. Her eyes flicker down to Yaz’s lips and she licks her own - the movement makes Yaz inhale sharply, and she blinks rapidly, staring at her friend as she continues to eye her mouth like she wanted - god Yaz was being _ridiculous -_ she was poisoned and suffering, there was no way she was thinking about -

The Doctor lurches forward and Yaz squeaks in surprise when she finds herself pinned against the console by her form, heat radiating from her, sweating palms pushing into her hair -

“Doctor!” She blurts out in shock, before a warm mouth is slanting over her own, and hands are sliding into her hair and tugging, running down over her body, frantic and clumsy, gripping her hips and pushing at her, trying to lift her up onto the console. 

“Wait,” Yaz gasps against her mouth, trying to gather her thoughts, but her head is _spinning_ , her heart absolutely pounding and she… she…

She pitches forward as the Doctor is suddenly stumbling back from her, and Yz grabs onto the console as her legs threaten to give out, standing staring, panting hard as she realises that Ryan had pulled their friend away from her. 

“Ryan,” the Doctor slurs, turning in his arms. Her gaze is unfocused and she sways alarmingly like she’s drunk. She reaches up to grab at the back of his neck. “C’mere…”

Something was very wrong. 

“Woah!” Ryan exclaims, yanking himself away from her. She staggers, collapsing to the floor. 

“Doctor!” Yaz gasps, making to rush to help her as she hits the hard floor with a smack, but then she’s scrambling up, scooting backwards into the console and shaking her head as she stares up at her with wide eyes. 

“No! Yaz - get - get back. All of you - you need to stay away from me - I _told you_ … losing control… not strong enough…” 

Yaz watches helplessly as she squeezes her eyes shut, arms wrapped around her knees pulled up against her chest, head dropping back against the console with a smack. “Please. Go,” she rasps. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Ryan asks warily. 

The Doctor shakes her head frantically, mumbling something, lips moving quickly. Yaz can’t make out what she’s saying, but she’s certain the word ‘sorry’ is in there more than once, and her heart aches for her. She glances at Graham, eyes wide and desperate. 

“What do we do?” She says. 

Graham shakes his head. “She ain’t in her right mind. That plant must be like - a psychotropic drug or something,” he says, before speaking up a bit louder. “Doc. You said there was someone who can help you,” he tries. “Tell us who. Tell us how to find them - whatever’s wrong with you… we can’t just leave you alone like this.”

“Have to,” she mutters.

“No,” Yaz says stubbornly. “We’re not leaving you.”

The Doctor lets out a groan, eyes snapping open. “You _have to_ \- don’t understand,” she growls at Yaz where she slumps panting against the console, “You’re making it worse - just being here. Because it wouldn’t even _help_ , and I _can’t_ …”

“Can’t what?” She prompts. 

“Doctor,” says Ryan, “Just tell us what you need. Let us help you.”

She glances round at her friends, her eyes wide and unfocused. Yaz feels tears fill her eyes and the Doctor lets her head drop in resignation as she groans. “I need…” She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head as if to clear it. “The Master,” she pants out, and Yaz’s eyes widen at that name. “Need to find the Master.”

“The Master!? That’s who can help you? What’s he gonna do!?” Graham blurts out. 

“He’ll know what to do,” is all she offers. 

They all look at each other. They knew there was a lot the Doctor hadn’t told them about the Master and who exactly he was to the Doctor - she has a feeling it’s a lot more complicated than it had first seemed, and Yaz supposed now was not the time to interrogate her. “Well - how are we gonna find him?” She says, “Isn’t he still in the Kasaavin’s realm?”

The Doctor shakes her head. “My phone. Get my phone.”

“You used to text O!” Yaz says, quickly catching on, and the Doctor manages a weak smile. “You think he’s still got the same phone?”

She grits her teeth. “Just - please.”

Yaz manages to fish her phone out of her discarded coat that Ryan had carried into the Tardis, and hesitates, hovering with it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I’m fairly sure I’m going to die otherwise Yaz,” she tells Yaz bluntly, and with wide eyes, she thrusts the phone at her. She watches as the Doctor flips it open, but she blinks at it, shaking her head and staring for a moment before she holds it back out to Yaz. 

“Can’t focus. You do it. Just text him. Tell him to come now, and these coordinates.” She reaches up and presses a button on the console, bringing up their location on the monitor for Yaz to copy down. She lets herself slide down to the floor again, leaning against the console as she pants, and Yaz notes with alarm that her whole body is starting to shake. 

Eyes wide, Yaz quickly does as she asks. 

“I can’t find O in your contacts,” Yaz says after a moment, frowning down at the phone.

The Doctor smakes her head back against the console, mumbling something. 

“What?”

“It’s under ‘the Master’ now.”

Uneasiness rising inside her along with confusion, Yaz brings up the Master’s name, alarmed to see the string of texts already there. The most recent one is dated earlier that day. Her eyes widen. 

“You’ve been texting him!?”

“Only - a little - now is really not the time Yaz, you can yell at me later, promise, will you just _please_ -”

“Okay, okay. Sent. Now what?”

“Now -”

The Tardis door bursts open before she can even finish the sentence. 

“Where is she!?”

The uneasiness inside her flares as a familiar voice precedes the Master crossing the floor in brisk footsteps. They all scuttle aside as he marches past, and Yaz _prays_ the Doctor hadn’t been wrong about this. He whirls on Yaz. 

_“Where is she!?”_

“M’here,” the Doctor says weakly.

“What are you -” The Master claps eyes on the form huddled by the console and blinks before whirling round to face her friends. “You said she was dying!” He accuses. 

“She is!” Yaz snaps back, squaring her shoulders. She’ll be damned if she shows him how much he terrifies her. “She ate some weird sap from this plant and then she collapsed and - she said she’s gonna die unless you help her!”

The Master turns back to face the Doctor, stares down at her a moment before he stalks to the console and hauls the monitor round, bringing up their location and frowning at it, before his face breaks into a grin, and then he starts to laugh. Yaz glances round at Graham and Ryan, alarmed. 

He reaches down and grabs the Doctor’s sonic from her hand (she gasps, visibly shuddering as he does so), and scans it over her before glancing at it, laughing louder.

“Oh - _ohhhh_ , this is just - this is _brilliant!”_ He is practically _gleeful_ and Yaz knew - she _knew_ contacting him was a bad idea - the Doctor was bloody delirious what had she been _thinking_ by doing what she said - 

“Lamroyx sap. You ate it didn’t you?” The Master speaks down to the Doctor where she sits slumped on the floor “Do you know how much people _pay_ for that stuff? Of course it’s very illegal in most galaxies but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get about. They make a mix with tequila - positively _potent_. At least I’ve heard, I would never touch the stuff personally - that’s not to say it can’t have its uses -”

“Okay, fine!” The Doctor interrupts him. “You’ve made your point, Doctor stupid,” she snaps, pulling herself to sit a little more upright against the console. “You know what I need,” she pants, glaring up at him as she says it. He grins down at her. 

“Ohh, I know what you need,” he leers. 

Yaz and the boys glance at each other. 

“What?” Says Graham, “How you gonna help her, is there a cure or something?”

The Master grins and opens his mouth to reply but the Doctor cuts him off before he can speak, shaking her head tensely. “Doesn’t matter.” She holds out a hand to him. “Help me up.”

The Master grabs her hand and hoists her to her feet - and then the Doctor is pitching forward with a gasp, grabbing at him, hands yanking at the collar of his coat, and Yaz can only stare with wide eyes as she shoves him back into the console just like she had done to Yaz just minutes before, grabbing his dark hair and yanking him down into a furious kiss -

“Doctor!” Yaz gasps. “What are you _doing!?”_

She sees the Master grin against the Doctor’s mouth, and then he’s laughing - giggling gleefully as she starts to press searing kisses down over his jaw and neck, clawing at him. 

“ _Doctor!”_ Yaz exclaims.

“I wouldn’t bother Yaz,” he drawls her name like it’s a mockery, and everything in Yaz is screaming and confused, “She can barely hear you.” He grins at her over the Doctor’s shoulder as she rips the top buttons of his shirt undone and yanks his collar aside to sink her teeth into his neck. “I have that effect on her.”

All of a sudden, the Doctor is wrenching herself out of the Master’s arms, staggering backwards with wide eyes into one of the glowing pillars, shaking her head as if to clear it. “We need - to go -” She gasps out, like it’s difficult for her to get words out. “Out of here,” she manages. 

“Only if you don’t want an audience,” the Master quips, and Yaz frowns. 

“To what? Why - what’s wrong with her? She said you can help her!” 

He grins, like he knows a joke she’s not in on. “She hasn’t told you what’s happened to her.”

“Don’t,” the Doctor growls. “They don’t need to know.”

“Don’t need to know what?” Ryan interjects. 

“What it is she’s ingested,” Says the Master, stepping towards the Doctor. She eyes him warily as he moves closer and it makes Yaz uncomfortable. “What it’s _doing_ to her…” He lifts a hand as he says the words, and lets the backs of his fingers trail softly over her face. The Doctor flinches away, but not quickly enough for her to prevent the moan from tumbling from her lips, her whole body shuddering and lilting towards his. Yaz’s eyes widen, and the Master grins again. 

“Lamroyx sap,” he announces, “from the lamar plant. Street name: _‘delirium_ ’.”

They all glance at each other, confused.

“Hmmm, how can I put this simply enough for you apes to understand...” he appears to ponder for a moment before snapping his fingers and proclaiming with a grin: “Sex pollen.”

The Doctors glares at him, breathing hard, and Yaz gasps.

“Ey?” Says Graham, after a short silence, “whaddya mean ‘sex pollen’?”

The Master glances down at the Doctor with a grin. “Exactly that. What she’s had a dose of is essentially an _incredibly_ strong aphrodisiac. But the kind that produces so much adrenalin it can kill you if you don’t…” He waves a hand, and leers at the Doctor before glancing back at her friends. “Well, I’m sure you can fill in the blank.”

A short, uncomfortable pause. 

“Please tell me he’s joking?” Yaz squeaks out, and the Doctor frowns, avoiding her eyes as she shakes her head tensely. Sweat is starting to trickle down her forehead, hair hanging limp around her face and Yaz can see that she’s shaking violently as if with fever. 

“I assure you I’m not joking.” The Master reaches out, slips a hand over the Doctor’s waist to her lower back, and she gasps, staggering into his arms, clutching at his purple coat, whimpering as she presses herself against him, as the Master _laughs_ \- 

“Get off her!” 

Yaz is lurching forward and pulling her back before she can think about it, away from the Master and placing herself between them. 

“You’re not going anywhere near her!”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? Or should I speak slower so you can understand?” He looks over Yaz’s shoulder to smirk at the Doctor as he speaks, and Yaz _hates him_ . “She’ll literally _die_ , if I don’t _fuck her_ ,” he says, and Yaz flinches at the word. “Do you want that to happen Yaz?”

Yaz stands up straighter, shaking her head. “That’s not - there must be someone else -” She turns to face the Doctor frantically, “Why does it have to be him!? He - he’s _evil_ , He tried -”

“Yaz,” the Doctor stops her. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine - you’re not - you don’t know what you’re saying,” she gestures to the Doctor frantically, distress rising inside her. She glances back at the Master, and then the Doctor, eyes wide, and licks her lips. “Let me help you,” she says quickly, voice dropped low, but not low enough for the Master not to hear, judging by the way he throws back his head and laughs. "Doctor, please - I can -"

"No."

"It's okay! I - I want to help you!"

"Yaz," she cuts her off before she can go any further, shaking her head. "No - it wouldn't even work."

"What?" Says Yaz, stomach sinking. "Why? Because - I'm a woman?"

“What?” She frowns, shaking her head like she’s confused, “No - because you’re human,” she tells her as if it were obvious, as she hears the Master mutter something that sounds like ‘idiot girl’ from behind them. 

_Because she was human… oh._

Yaz’s shoulder’s drop, and dismay falls across her face. “Oh,” she says out loud. Of course. She was just a human, and the Master was… whatever the Doctor was. That’s why he was the only one who could - _help her_ \- with this. Stupid. She’d been so stupid. 

The Master steps forward and reaches for the Doctor and Yaz reluctantly scuttles out of the way, heart hurting and cheeks flaming with embarrassment. 

“Doc,” It’s Graham speaking quietly, “Are you sure about this? You think you can trust him?”

Yaz sees her visibly swallow, even as she sways towards him. “Look - it’s fine,” the Doctor assures her friends tightly, “Seriously. We’ll uh - be back later.” She manages a blush, even in her sweating, trembling state. The flush on her cheeks probably only shows because she’s so frighteningly _pale_ now, skin clammy and eyes red, looking like she’s ready to collapse right there and then and Yaz’s concern swells. 

“It’s not like it’ll be the first time,” the Master adds, and just as Yaz’s wide eyes meet the Doctor’s, he swoops round and hefts her up into his arms as if she weighs nothing. “Don’t wait up,” he adds to her friends smugly, before turning and heading off into the depths of the Tardis with the Doctor in his arms.

They all stare after them, a horrible chill in the air. 

“She’ll be fine,” Graham says quietly. “She can handle the Master.”

“Evidently,” Ryan mutters, and Graham coughs. 

Yaz can’t look them in the eye. If her friends hadn’t been aware of her stupid, huge, idiotic crush on the Doctor before they certainly were now. 

She had actually _offered_ \- !

“I’m… I’m gonna go,” she mumbles, scooting past them, eyes on the floor. 

“You alright Yaz?” Graham’s voice follows her. 

“Fine!” She squeaks, scurrying from the console room. 

Unfortunately for Yaz, she leaves after the Doctor and the Master too quickly, and on the way to her room with a lump burning in her throat and burying herself under her duvet for the foreseeable future in mind, Yaz turns a corner and halts abruptly when she sees the Master, still with the Doctor in his arms, kicking open a door and carrying her inside as the Doctor runs her hands through his dark hair, tugging as she mouths at his neck. Yaz just has time to catch sight of the large bed with dark blue sheets in the centre of the room, before the Master kicks the door shut behind them with a bang, and the sound of the Doctor’s gasp rings out seconds later. 

\--

The first door the Master had carried her to and shoved open contains a bedroom - helpful Tardis - and the Doctor’s whole body is shaking with need as it slams it shut behind them and he carries her across the room, dumping her unceremoniously on the bed as she lets out a gasp. Another wave of lust hitting her like a tsunami as he looks down at her, the Doctor reaches for him, desperately trying to pull him down on top of her, but he detangles himself from her, and takes three steps back. 

“Now, may I ask Doctor,” he says, looking down at her where she lays wide eyed and panting on the bed. He takes a moment to pause, dragging his gaze steadily over her heaving form and making her quiver with another wave of yearning. 

His eyes snap back up to hers and he looks down at her smugly; mockingly before he continues. “What in the universe makes you think I’m going to help you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So do you want part two?
> 
> This is either gonna have two or three parts... I haven't finished it yet so I haven't decided but it's probably not too much of a spoiler to tell you that the next part is going to be very E rated :P
> 
> Pleeease leave me a comment and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two! Thank you soo much for the amazing response to p1 you're all so nice to me omg I really hope this part doesn't disappoint!! But before you read - just a quick note there was quite a big mistake in the last chapter I managed to accidentally delete a chunk of text while I was editing aaaah so there were some lines between Yaz and the Doctor missing and I didn’t realise until the chapter had been up for quite a while soo… I’ve edited it now but here is the corrected section for those who read it before it was fixed:
> 
> Yaz stands up straighter, shaking her head. “That’s not - there must be someone else -” She turns to face the Doctor frantically, “Why does it have to be him!? He - he’s evil , He tried -”
> 
> “Yaz,” the Doctor stops her. “It’s fine.”
> 
> “It’s not fine - you’re not - you don’t know what you’re saying,” she gestures to the Doctor frantically, distress rising inside her. She glances back at the Master, and then the Doctor, eyes wide, and licks her lips. “Let me help you,” she says quickly, voice dropped low, but not low enough for the Master not to hear, judging by the way he throws back his head and laughs. "Doctor, please - I can -"
> 
> "No."
> 
> "It's okay! I - I want to help you!"
> 
> "Yaz," she cuts her off before she can go any further, shaking her head. "No - it wouldn't even work."
> 
> "What?" Says Yaz, stomach sinking. "Why? Because - I'm a woman?"
> 
> “What?” She frowns, shaking her head like she’s confused, “No - because you’re human,” she tells her as if it were obvious, as she hears the Master mutter something that sounds like ‘idiot girl’ from behind them. 
> 
> \--
> 
> ALSO sorry a quick word of warning it is tagged but just to clarify as the trope dictates this is dub-con because of the whole sex pollen thing and uhh it’s the master he’s not gonna be nice about it so if you’re looking for soft fluffy smut you’ll probs wanna go elsewhere... 😬😂 ok I'll shut up now here we go!!

The Doctor stares up at her oldest friend/enemy (frenemy?), her eyes growing wider. She pushes herself up on trembling elbows, vision hazy and head spinning. All she can smell is  _ him _ , and the scent is making every other sense dull and foggy. She shakes her head to try and clear it. He  _ couldn’t _ be intending to leave her here like this. Otherwise why would he -

“Then why did you come?”

He grins, slowly, letting his gaze roam lazily over her sweat-drenched form. 

“And pass up the opportunity to see you like this? Broken down..  _ Desperate.  _ Minutes from death…” He leers at her. “Throwing yourself at me.”

The Doctor takes a deep breath in through her nose. “If you leave I’ll just - I’ll just regenerate,” she tries for reason. 

He shrugs like it’s neither here nor there for him. “Might turn out less irritating next time.”

“I’ll regenerate here - on the Tardis. Last time I did that she imploded and threw me out in mid air above earth. She’ll do it again - she’ll throw  _ all of us _ out.”

Another shrug. “Worth the risk.”

Deciding to try a different tactic (plus she was  _ really _ overheating), the Doctor pushes herself upright before shoving her braces off and grabbing the hem of her sweat-soaked t-shirts and pulling them over her head. She lays back, eyes on the Master as she fumbles with the button on her trousers and lifts her hips to shove those and her underwear down in one go. The cool air of the room hitting her newly bared body sends a shockwave to her clit that has her crying out, back arching as her hand flies down between her legs, trousers still caught forgotten around her thighs as she rubs at slick, swollen flesh frantically. 

She comes fast with the Master’s dark eyes on her, his jaw slack as her back arches and she gasps, shuddering with the climax while she moans and moans. It’s not enough. Her body burns hotter, cunt aches deeper and she can feel the adrenaline building inside her chest, coursing around her hearts and sending her blood pressure rocketing. She gives a yell of frustration, head tossing on the pillow. The Master, appearing to give himself a shake, starts to laugh at her, and how she hates him with every fibre of her being in that moment. 

“You know as well as I do that that’s not going to cut it. You’ll only make the effects worsen quicker.” He gloats. 

“Yes, thank you,” she spits, shaking violently on the bed. She hadn’t actually been intending to do that, but she was fast losing control of herself. She shifts unfocused eyes to his. “You’re really just going to watch me die like this then?” 

“Now Doctor, I just said that hypothetically I  _ could _ … I didn’t say I would.”

The Doctor’s hearts beat faster. “So…?”

He lets his gaze flicker over her bared form. Then he smiles at her, showing his teeth in a wicked grin. “Beg me.”

The Doctor’s eyes widen. “For sex? Are you out of your mind?” she tries to scoff, but her voice comes out hoarse and rough. 

“Me? No, no I’m perfectly in my right mind at the moment. The same can’t be said for you my dear. And that’s why you’re going to beg for what you want.”

“Never,” she growls, even as her body gives a violent shudder, everything within her screaming at her to do whatever it took to get the person standing five feet away from her down into this bed with her. 

The Master folds his hands casually in front of him. It’s a mistake - the movement draws the Doctor’s eyes down to his crotch, where she can see that despite his disinterested attitude, his body wanted hers as much as the Doctor’s own did his. 

Biting her lip, and trying to block out the way that sight made her positively  _ pulse _ between her legs, She reaches down, and makes as much of a show as she can of sliding her trousers and knickers the rest of the way off her legs. 

“I’m not going to beg you for something you want just as much as I do,” she manages, toeing off her boots and pulling away the garments, letting them drop to the floor. “How long do you think you can resist me like this?” She sits up again to yank her bra over her head, laying back and trailing her hands up over newly bared breasts as she writhes against the duvet. She sees the Master force his eyes away from her body and up to her face. His hands shift further over his crotch and she smiles. 

He clears his throat. “Unlike you at the moment - I have complete control over my base desires; they don’t control  _ me _ .”

“Oh, so you admit you desire me then?” She smirks. Her vision is starting to blacken round the edges, stars dancing right at the corners and that is definitely  _ not good _ \- she needs to move this along - fast. The Doctor rolls over onto her hands and knees, facing away from him, and looks over her shoulder, arching her back.

He stares for a moment, mouth hanging open, eyes fixed between her legs. She’s so wet she can feel it trickling down the inside of her thigh, fully aware what a sight she must be, and she bites her lip, wriggling a bit, knees shifting further apart as she waits for him to take the bait. He appears to give himself a shake, eyes snapping to her face. 

“If you could see yourself now,” he half laughs - an attempt to mock her, but his voice comes out a little too thick with lust for it to be fully effective. She shoots him a smirk. 

“I bet I look hot. All bare…  _ ready…  _ ready for  _ you _ …”

He lunges for her, and her second of delight and  _ releif _ is cut short with surprise when instead of climbing up onto the bed and mounting her like she expects, the Master drops to his knees and drags her backwards by the hips, leaning in and covering her aching, burning sex with his open mouth. The Doctor falls forward onto her face at that first touch, moaning and gasping open mouthed into the duvet as he licks and sucks her mercilessly, bringing her to a fast climax then sucking at her clit before she’s even come down, quickly working her up to another one. She’s gasping, moaning out loud and about to tumble over the edge again when the Master suddenly pulls his mouth away from her and backs off. 

“No!” She sobs, one hand flying down between her legs, collapsing down onto her stomach as she rubs at herself helplessly, shaking and whimpering her way through another unfulfilling orgasm that makes her head pound harder and body ache more. 

“Ready to beg yet, love?” She hears him smirk from behind her as she pants into the duvet. The sheets are damp with sweat and she’s soaked and hot and aching between her legs. Her core burns, the pressure between her legs making tears prick in the corners of her eyes, and she closes them, contemplating regeneration. Was it really worth it, for her pride? It would hurt, she could tell - she was already in enough pain on the verge here - and her friends - her  _ friends.  _ It was always such a lot to put her human companions through, who could never fully grasp the concept of a different her but still  _ her _ . And she liked this version of herself. In all honestly, she’d be rather sad to see herself go so soon. 

Another crippling wave of need rushes through her, and the vice around her hearts tightens. Her body is shaking furiously and her temperature is rocketing, her head foggy and spinning. There isn’t long now. Squeezing her eyes shut, the Doctor draws in a ragged breath. “Please,” she whispers. 

“What was that?”

Gritting her teeth, she repeats herself. 

“ _ Please _ .”

“Please what?”

“Master,” she growls into the bed, face burning, “Please.”

“Look at me when you’re talking to me.”

Groaning in utter frustration, the Doctor rolls over onto her back, shoving sweat-drenched hair from her face and blinking up at him through blurred vision. She can barely focus on him now, his form a blurry dark shape in front of her, but the scent of him is stronger than ever; it’s all she can smell, making her drunk off him, drunk and dehydrated at the same time. 

“Please Master,” she says one more time, beyond humiliation as her body shakes and burns, and then finally, blessedly, he is down on top of her and shedding his clothes as she yanks deliriously at them, thighs falling open, legs wrapping around his hips as she pushes at material until she can feel the press of a hot hard cock against her thigh. Hips shifting, she reaches down with desperately trembling hands to seize him, probably rougher than she should (he gives a muffled grunt by her ear), guiding him to her, but suddenly he is prying her hand away, lifting off her and pushing at her. 

“No - please - !” She gasps, definitely beyond embarrassment now as her stomach lurches with the thought of him leaving her like this again - she isn’t sure she can survive it this time - but she calms when she realises he’s simply pressing her onto her front, hiking her hips up towards him and settling behind her. 

She feels the tip of his cock slide over her and cries out, pushing back against the pressure, so ready to take him inside another rush of wetness seeps from her. Instead of granting her what she wants straight away, he teases her with his cock, sliding himself up and down through her slick folds, gliding over her clit before moving away.

“Mas - pluh - please -“ she pants, fists clenched so tight in the sheets her knuckles are white. 

He nudges at her entrance and she gasps, rocking back against him, but he’s moving away in the next second, one hand on her buttock, spreading her open as he brings his cock to her other, tighter hole and presses there.

“Maybe I should fuck you like this, huh? Like we used to…”

“Anything,” the Doctor whimpers, pushing back against him, and he laughs, drawing away again. 

“You really are far gone, aren’t you my dear?” He mocks her, sliding his length through her folds again as he runs his hands up over her back and down her sides, groping her breasts. Her head spins, insides quivering around nothing as her thighs tremble. 

“I don’t care how you fuck me just  _ fuck me _ before I die,” she growls. She intends anger but the words come out hoarse and desperate, and if the Doctor’s head wasn’t so clouded with lust she probably would have been embarrassed. 

“Now usually I’d say you were being dramatic, but in this instance dying is a real possibility isn’t it?”

“ _ Master,”  _ she whines, beyond frustrated with him as she rocks her hips back, trying to get him to stop teasing her, almost crying with need when he pulls back away from her with another laugh, pinning her down when she tries to twist over. She should have known this would be a bad idea - he was going to tease her until she died like this, desperate and wanting, and he was going to enjoy every second wasn’t he? - What had she been  _ thinking _ asking him for his help with this? He hated her. And she hated him, and here she was, having handed him a front row ticket to her execution, placed a metaphorical noose round her neck and a trapdoor beneath her feet with the lever in his hand. 

“Please,” she tries again, the pathetic whimper leaving her lips with a puff of air and making her cheeks burn at what he’d reduced her to. 

She feels two hands settle on her hips and the heat of his body close to her own and she gives a shudder, limbs trembling.

“Again.”

“ _ Please.” _

“One more time.”

The Doctor can hear the smirk in his voice and how she  _ hates him _ and everything he is in this moment, hates that he is exploiting her condition, forcing her to beg him for something she wouldn’t even consider with a level head and he damn well knows it too. 

Holding back tears of frustration and swallowing down the lump in her throat, she gives him what he asks for in a broken whisper.

“Please.”

When he finally pushes into her it’s a mixture of bliss and relief, her head swimming with shocks of pleasure, mind screaming  _ yes, yes, yes,  _ too far gone to care that he could probably hear. 

He slams into her four times and she is climaxing again, crying out as her body contracts around his own, the bedsheets clutched in her fists and skin drenched in sweat. 

“Don’t stop,” she gasps as she comes down from her high, body still screaming and head spinning. 

She hears him snort behind her. “I’ve barely started my dear.”

She moans at his words, feeling herself clench around him in response, the Master giving a grunt as she does so, his hands tight on her hips, fucking her harder. 

They’ve done this before, of course. The last time had been a poorly thought out decision in London, when she’d stormed into his Tardis parked outside the Adelaide gallery and demanded to know what the hell he thought he was playing at, forcing her to kneel for him in a hall full of people like that. He’d knelt for her then, as way of an apology that had the Doctor flailing to clutch at his console, knees weak and gasps tumbling from her open mouth. She’d climbed off him and scarpered with her braces hanging and coat half on before he could stop her when they finished, already regretting letting it happen (didn’t she always?). 

That had been their first time together in these regenerations, but far from their first time throughout their lives. He hadn’t exactly been gentle with her then, but the way he was fucking her now, hands so tight on her hips she was certain there would be dark bruises left behind and his cock hitting her so deep and hard inside she could feel it in the pit of her stomach has her crying out with every thrust, hoarse, animalistic noises tearing their way from her throat at the mix of pleasure-pain. The Doctor grips the sheets of the bed tighter in her hands and pushes back against him, eagerly taking all he can give her as her body shudders, and moans tumble from her open mouth.

She feels herself clench around him in another orgasm that has her pressing her face into the bed and screaming, and then he’s pulling out of her, and shoving her over to flop down on her back. 

“Wha - no,” she gasps, reaching for him desperately, body screaming in protest at being separated from him. “Not done -”

“Neither am I,” he answers, pressing her knees up, pushing her legs over his shoulders and sliding back inside her. The Doctor tosses her head back against the sheets and gasps as he fills her again. She’s still unused to the sensation - female anatomy unfamiliar to her in this sort of situation particularly, and it sends little shocks of thrill shooting through her body at how deeply within her he felt. He fucks her like that, her legs on his shoulders, thighs burning, his dark eyes boring into her own until she climaxes again, and then he’s withdrawing his hips and rolling her onto her side to slip into her from behind again. 

Her hand flails out to clutch at the bedsheets, gripping them desperately as the pressure around her hearts tightens and the heat in her belly  _ burns _ . “It’s not working,” the Doctor sobs, body exhausted but still shaking and aching with desire. She can barely see now, black spots in front of her vision, “Why isn’t it working?”

“Needs to be - mutual,” the Master grunts into her neck, sounding as out of breath as she feels. 

She shakes the spots from her vision, brow furrowed. “What?”

“You need my climax too. That’s the way it works.”

His hand slides up over her abdomen and squeezes a breast and she gasps, letting out a sharp cry when he pinches her nipple, bare teeth scraping over the side of her neck. 

“The hurry up and  _ come _ ,” she demands, hand flying up to grip hold of a fistful of his hair, her back arched as she moves frantically against him. 

“Not yet,” he grinds out tightly, the words strained as he slows his thrusts a bit. 

“Master,” she gasps, stomach dropping at the determination in his voice. She knew that tone, and it sent a rush of panic to her gut. “This isn’t the time for -” She cuts off with a shout when his hand slides from her chest down between her legs and he rubs quickly over her engorged clit, forcing another powerful climax from her exhausted form. He slips out of her as she’s coming down again, and she nearly cries, everything dark and out of focus as she feels him tugging at her, maneuvering her around. 

“Up,” he grunts where he lays on his back now. 

“I can’t,” the Doctor pants, collapsing over him when he yanks at her, trying to get her to straddle him. Her limbs are like jelly. “I can’t.”

“You can.” His dark eyes find her wide green ones, and there’s an intensity there that makes her stomach flutter. “Come on,” he growls, “You’re stronger than this thing.”

Body screaming at her, the Doctor hesitates before nodding shakily, and she clambers over him, straddling him and pushing herself upright on top of him as his hands go to her hips to guide her down onto his erection. He throbs inside her, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes roll back a bit as she takes him in, every muscle in his body taut as he clearly tries to hold himself back. 

“Why?” She gasps, grinding on top of him. “I need - this to be over - we both do - why... are you holding back like this?”

His hands tighten on her hips, and he smirks up at her as she rides him. 

“I want to see how much you can take.”

Her eyes widen, even as her body gives a jolt, inner walls clenching around him. They both gasp, and the Doctor’s hearts are pounding as she stares down into his dark eyes and sees only lust and madness in this moment. 

“You realise you could kill me,” she spits, and he grins up at her -  _ grins! _

“Don’t pretend you don’t like a little danger with your pleasure. Makes it that much more potent does it not?”

“You’re a sadistic bastard,” she growls. 

“And you  _ love it _ .”

Almost like it were confirming his words, her body gives another shudder, her cunt fluttering around him, the wave of pleasure so intense she pitches forward, collapsing against his chest. He’s laughing into her ear, planting his feet and thrusting up into her and she’s  _ tired _ \- so tired, of this, of him, of the way she can feel every frantic beat of her two hearts, every surge of adrenaline inside her that pushes her blood pressure up that bit higher, makes her vision haze in and out of darkness, and suddenly she’s crying, nails digging into his shoulders as hot tears spill from her eyes down onto his neck where her face is buried. 

“Come on,” he’s growling into her ear, “come on,  _ move _ , you can take it.”

She shakes her head, her whole body trembling violently as she feels her grip on consciousness start to fade. 

_ Come on _ , he growls again - but not out loud,  _ here _ , inside her head - and the very fact that he’s gotten in without her knowledge or permission means she is fast losing her grip on reality.  _ One more,  _ he presses, his voice rough inside her mind. _ I’ve got you. I’m here with you.  _

Those words burn fury into her hearts, enough to give her a surge of strength because  _ how dare he!?  _ How dare he say he was  _ here with her _ , when all he did was try to cause her pain and trauma - when he - she had  _ left her _ , she’d given him every chance under the sun, thought she’d changed and she’d  _ left _ -

Pushing herself upright on top of him, the Doctor plants her hands on his chest and digs her nails into his skin as she rises and falls over him, her eyes squeezed shut against the stars dancing in front of her vision, her whole body wrung out and shaking, sweat dripping from her and limbs weak. But she grinds her hips, hard, circling them over him, squeezing her internal muscles around him again and again until he is choking out open-mouthed gasps of pleasure, his hands flying to her hips, and then - finally - he is coming. He spills inside her with a shout and a half-choked exclamation that may have been her name as the Doctor reaches one final climax, groaning and shuddering her way through it until she slumps down over him, totally exhausted. 

They are both gasping for breath for a few minutes, the Master softening inside her as she lays still, unable to move as her body comes down from it’s high, and she feels her heart rates gradually start to slow, the adrenaline coursing through her veins dissipating, and her mind clearing of the fog of lust. 

When she finally has enough of her senses returned, she pushes herself up, lifting her hips to let the Master slip out of her and sitting back on his thighs. She looks down at him where he lays sprawled quite contentedly beneath her, dark eyes mirthful, and an infuriating smirk on his infuriating mouth, and summoning up all the energy she has left, she lurches forward and punches him in the face. 

“Augh!” He yelps, hands flying to his face in shock. Fury coursing through her, she yanks them away and swings for him again, but he grabs her face in his hands and hauls her down to him and kisses her until she goes limp against him. Her lips part beneath his as she lets him twist them both onto their sides, kissing him back as he strokes at the back of her neck until the tension seeps from her limbs and all the rage has faded from her mind. 

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs smugly against her mouth when they part and she shoves at him. 

“Like you were doing me a favour,” she growls as she flops down, rolling away from him, her entire body exhausted as she curls onto her side away from him amongst damp sheets. 

“I was.”

She gives him a look over her shoulder. “Like this wasn’t your dream scenario. I could almost wonder if you engineered it.”

“Hmm nope, that was all you dear.”

She sighs, the air of the room beginning to cool the sweat on her form and making her shiver suddenly. She’s cold - that’s the only reason she reaches down and drags the duvet up over them - and  _ certainly _ the only reason she grabs the Master’s arm and pulls it over her waist, shuffling back into his form as he settles against her with a dark chuckle. The cold - and the lingering effects of the pollen. Her body was still tingling and aching and craving closeness - contact. Those were the only reasons she settles down in his arms and lets herself fall into a blissfully exhausted sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a part three if you want it! Pleeease let me know what you think so many of you wonderful people left me comments on p1 I’m very anxious that this is going to fall short 😅 really hope it didn't disappoint anyone aaah


	3. Chapter 3

Yaz’s heart pounds as she stares at the closed door down the end of the hallway, trying not to think about what was happening inside. Trying not to think about  _ the Doctor,  _ in there, doing…  _ that.  _ With  _ the Master _ , of all the people in the universe.

It stung enough that the woman she’d been half in love with since she’d met her was with someone else - but  _ him!?  _ The man who’d tried to kill them all, had literally left them on a plane with a bomb and tried to send them hurtling to their deaths - not to mention attempted to  _ end the entire human race. _

How could the Doctor be with someone like that? “ _ It’s not like it would be the first time _ ,” the Master had said, and Yaz isn’t stupid enough to hope that he might be lying. Not from the way the Doctor was looking at him. Not from the fact that they’d been  _ texting  _ each other all this damn time. 

Texting! The Doctor’s phone - she pats down her pockets, yanking it out with wide eyes. She still has it. She could just -

She shouldn’t…

She is distracted from her thoughts by a noise coming from behind the closed door, and cheeks flaming, Yaz scurries off to her room away from them. 

Safe on her bed, Yaz flips open the phone and hesitates only briefly before bringing up the Doctor’s text messages.

Her eyes dart across the screen as she scrolls quickly. And scrolls… and scrolls. Yaz shakes her head, a frown on her face as she stares at the pages and pages of messages between them, something akin to betrayal settling in her chest. 

The Doctor had told them very little about the Master since the whole thing with the Kasaavin where he had literally tried to kill them - except that he was an old friend who’d gone down a dark path, and they had all assumed he was now simply her enemy. Yaz is seeing now that it’s not quite that black and white, and that the Doctor had apparently been keeping a lot from them. 

_ Why did you do it?  _ She keeps asking the Master in her messages, intermittently through heated conversations and what seem like more casual exchanges. 

_ Why did you do it? _

Do what? What was the Doctor referring to - what had the Master done? 

_ It wouldn’t be any fun if I just told you _ , the Master’s most recent reply to that question states, and the message that follows has Yaz staring, eyes wide as she tries to imagine the Doctor using any of those words. 

_ Just thinking about you.  _ Yaz stops scrolling as her eyes land on that one the Master had sent a week or so back in response to the Doctor asking what he was doing. 

_ No change there then,  _ the Doctor had replied.  _ Murderous thoughts as usual? _

_ Amongst others.  _

_ Oh?  _

_ I’m sure you can guess.  _

The Doctor hasn’t replied to that one, and the Master had messaged her again a few minutes later:  _ What are you wearing?  _

_ Seriously? _

_ Come on love, you stranded me in this boring realm, play along.  _

_ You must think I’m an idiot if you think I believe you’re still there.  _

_ I am.  _

_ No you’re not. Besides, you told me you were on Neptor 9 last week.  _

_ Fine, fine. I’m not there, but I am still bored.  _

_ Tough.  _

_ Ok, fine. I can use my imagination. You’re probably in that hideous getup with the grey coat and rainbow shirt I saw you in in the outback anyway.  _

_ What’s wrong with it?  _

_ It’s atrocious. The suit wasn’t bad though.  _

There’s a gap before the Doctor’s next message, and a time stamp for an hour later.  _ I knew you liked it.  _

_ Liked it on the floor even more.  _

_ I don’t want to talk about that. _

_ I do. The memory of you astride me naked on my console floor kept me going those seventy-seven years.  _

Yaz’s eyes grow wide as she reads quickly, heart pounding. 

_ What, you couldn’t manage to get laid in 77 years? _

_ Oh I didn’t say that. But nobody ever quite compares to you, do they? _

The Doctor hasn’t replied to that one, and it’s a few days until they start exchanging messages again. She scrolls through them quickly, eyes dancing over words with growing trepidation in her gut, casual exchanges and more heated, anger-filled ones - her eyes fix on a message from the Master:  _ maybe if you could have kept your hands off me back then you would’ve found out - _

She scrolls quickly past, lands on one from the Doctor:  _ handcuffs always were an effective way to shut you up. That and my cock in your mouth - _

Yaz snaps the phone shut and throws it from her like it’s suddenly on fire, staring at it where it’s landed on the end of her bed with bile rising in her throat and a horrible knot in her stomach. 

It wasn’t so much the fact that the Doctor and the Master were clearly involved that makes Yaz feel so uneasy, it was more the way the Doctor had purposefully hidden it from them - that and the tone of their conversations. Despite being interspersed by sexually suggestive comments and quips, their exchanges weren’t exactly friendly - the Doctor seemed to be very angry with the Master about something, but that didn’t seem to put a dent in the fact that they had some weird deep connection she didn’t exactly seem to be attempting to break off. 

If Yaz hadn’t taken the phone from her coat pocket herself, she wouldn’t believe it was the Doctor who had typed those messages. 

She doesn’t know how that makes her feel. 

Yaz had been aware for quite some time now (maybe even since she had known her), that her feelings for the Doctor ran deeper than friendship. She wasn’t foolish - she knew she had no chance with her, the Doctor was…  _ the Doctor _ , and Yaz was just some girl from Sheffield. She’d been fine with that - content enough to be her friend, and take every little scrap of affection she offered her. Not that there was much - she wasn’t the most tactile person Yaz had ever met, but that was fine - the soft little looks she threw her sometimes and the way she said her name like it was precious on her lips sent Yaz’s heart singing, and she couldn’t help but try to impress her every chance there was. Sometimes the Doctor worried when Yaz did something a little reckless or risky, and selfishly, Yaz loved that too. 

But in all that time, although she was content with admiring her from afar and taking what she could get, Yaz hadn’t even considered that there might be someone else. The Doctor had never shown any interest in romantic or sexual relationships, and never spoken of any previous partners (did she ever speak of  _ anything _ in her past?) And so the thought had never really occurred to her. 

Yaz thinks of those messages, and thinks of the way she had looked, in the Master’s arms, thinks of her lips on his (her lips on  _ hers -  _ her heart  _ aches _ ), thinks of what was happening in this very Tardis right now, and thinks of how wrong she had been.

\--

Yaz hides in her room for the rest of that day. She gets hungry after a few hours, but doesn’t dare risk venturing out and bumping into Graham or Ryan - she doesn’t think she can face them right now. She showers to pass the time, and eventually curls up in bed, but she tosses and turns, awake and miserable for hours until she gives in to her growling stomach and gets up, certain everyone would be asleep by now as she ventures to the kitchen. 

She makes herself some toast and a hot chocolate, too tired and upset to be bothered with cooking anything, and plops down with them at the little table there, munching on the slice of toast miserably. 

“Oh.”

Jumping a bit, Yaz snaps her head up to see the Doctor halted in the Tardis kitchen doorway. 

“Yaz. Didn’t think you’d still be up,” she says, voice soft.

“Yeah,” Yaz says, stomach tying itself in a bit of a knot as she tries not to think about what had happened between them earlier. About what she’d suggested to the Doctor - 

She clears her throat. “Are… you okay?”

She gives her a small smile, nodding her head. “All better,” she says before dropping her gaze and hurrying past Yaz to the cupboards. 

Yaz sits there silently, nursing her hot chocolate with her heart in her mouth as she tries not to look at Doctor while she goes about pouring herself a glass of water. She’s dressed, but barefoot. Coat absent, braces hanging. Her usually neat blonde bob is mussed in a way that makes Yaz flush and avert her gaze, trying not to think about dark hands running through it, gripping tightly as they - 

“The Master,” Yaz blurts out, needing to say  _ something _ to break the awkward silence. “Where is -”

“Gone,” the Doctor answers shortly, and Yaz looks down, nodding with a frown as the Doctor turns to face her. She leans back against the counter, sipping from her glass. 

“Right,” Yaz mumbles. “So he just - you know - and left.” She scoffs, unable to keep the bitterness out of her tone. “Nice.”

The Doctor tilts her head at her. “Well, what else would he have done?”

Yaz glances up with a frown. “He could have at least stayed the night.”

“What for?”

“To sleep?”

“We don’t sleep.”

She falters at that, eyes bulging a bit. “You don’t - what… never?”

“Well, obviously we need to sleep sometimes, every species does, but not as regularly as humans do. I usually have a nap every couple of weeks.”

Yaz stares at her. “Right,” she says. Suddenly, the Doctor breaks out in a yawn. 

“Actually, might be overdue a proper one, now I come to think of it. Dozed a bit earlier but this stuff’s still in my bloodstream, woke me up -” She cuts off, cheeks flushing, and Yaz realises what she was implying. Her own face goes red as she looks down, trying not to visualise them together.  _ The Doctor ant the Master.  _ The Doctor turns to set her glass down on the side but stumbles suddenly, grabbing onto the counter. Yaz is out of her chair and across the room to catch her quickly, concern on her face. 

“Doctor - shit you’re burning up!” She exclaims when she feels the heat radiating from her. Now she’s as close as she is, she can see that there’s sweat on her brow, and her eyes are unfocused. 

“S’fine,” she mumbles. “Just… after effects of the pollen. I’ll probably run a fever for a day or two, nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. Honestly I’m fine,” she reiterates when Yaz hovers anxiously. 

“Maybe you should get to bed,” she suggests, taking the Doctor’s arm when she sways a bit. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

The Doctor leans on her quite heavily as they move down the corridor, and Yaz guides her back to the room she’d seen her disappear into earlier. She’s never been in the Doctor’s bedroom before, and she doesn’t actually know if this is it, but the Doctor slumps quite contentedly down onto the bed when Yaz deposits her there, and curls on her side into the pillow with a groan. Yaz reaches down, pressing a hand to her forehead and biting her lip worriedly when she feels her burning skin. 

Her shirts are soaked through with sweat and Yaz notes that the bedsheets are damp too - but she’s certainly not touching  _ those _ . Cheeks flushing, she nudges at the Doctor. 

“You should change. Do you have any… pyjama’s or anything in here? Doctor?”

“M’fine.”

“You’re not. You’ll catch a chill. Come on - get these off and I’ll try and find you something,” she tells her, turning her back and heading over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room so the Doctor could change. Yaz can hear the soft thud of her clothes hitting the floor and tries not to think about it as she rummages through the cupboard. There’s some trousers and shirts and a couple of jackets - it all looks like men’s clothes and too large for the Doctor’s petite frame, but shrugging she pulls out a shirt, deciding it would have to do. 

“Okay got something. Can I turn round?”

“Mmm.”

“Doctor!” Yaz squeaks when she turns to see her sitting on the bed across the room, completely starkers. 

“Oh,” she mumbles, grabbing the duvet and dragging it up over herself, apparently not particularly bothered at her state of undress. “Sorry. I forget how modest you humans can be.”

“It’s - it’s fine,” Yaz mumbles, face on fire as she hurries back over to the Doctor and holds out the shirt. She reaches out to take it, her hand brushing Yaz’s as she does, and her eyes flick up to hers. 

They are dark, her pupils blown wide, and Yaz inhales sharply as they lock onto her. “Doctor, are you sure you’re al - Doctor!” She squeaks when a hand grips Yaz’s jumper and suddenly hauls her down. She staggers, toppling forward and finding herself sprawled over the Doctor whose lips are on hers before she can realise what’s happening.

There’s something in the back of Yaz’s mind that’s screaming at her that the Doctor is obviously still feeling effects of the pollen which is the only reason this is happening - and it screams louder at Yaz to stop this before it can go any further -

Too late, she vaguely realises as two warm hands slide beneath her jumper and up over her back. She gives a muffled sound of surprise against the Doctor’s mouth, that turns to a gasp when one hand snakes round to the front and cups a breast over her bra. 

“Wait!” She gasps, breaking from her lips, “I’m - you’re -”

“Yaz,” the Doctor murmurs, chasing her lips, hand splayed on her lower back to pull her tight against her burning form, “My Yaz…”

Her stomach leaping at the words, Yaz plants her hands either side of the Doctor’s head to brace herself, trying to get some purchase and a grip on what was happening as she pulls back to stare down at her, panting. Her blonde hair is mussed and her eyes are dark, face flushed and sweat on her brow, and Yaz tries not to think about what a hot mess she looked at the moment.  _ Now is not the time Yaz, _ she tells herself firmly.

“You’re - the sap - the pollen stuff,” she tries to reason. “That’s -”

The Doctor nods quickly, squeezing her eyes shut, giving her head a little shake like she’s trying to clear it. Her hand presses firmer on Yaz’s back, pulling her to her, and her eyes are still dark when they snap back open. 

“It hurts Yaz,” she admits quietly, giving a soft moan as she shifts beneath her. “Can you help me?”

Yazs own eyes widen. “Uh -“

“Please Yaz,” she breathes, reaching up with her other hand to thread it into Yaz’s hair. “Please, can you do this for me? You’re so gorgeous, look at you. I want you…”

Yaz grabs her wrist, pulling the Doctor’s hands from her face. She gasps.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Yaz says firmly, although her voice wavers. The Doctor nods.

“I do. I know exactly what I’m saying, I want you, how could I not?” she glances down at her mouth again. “You’re Yaz...”

“Doctor wait!” Yaz gasps, pulling back before her lips can touch her own. She tightens her grip on the Doctor’s wrist and the alien woman moans. The sound goes right through Yaz, setting light to something deep inside her, and when the Doctor tugs at her hair to yank her mouth back down to hers, Yaz is powerless to do anything but kiss her back. 

“Well. This isn’t exactly what I expected to come back to but I can’t say I’m complaining.”

The deep voice that suddenly rumbles though the room makes Yaz gasp as her stomach flips, and she yanks herself back from the Doctor, to see none other than the Master, standing by the door and smirking at them. 

“No please - don’t stop on my account.” He leers at both of them and Yaz scrambles away from the Doctor. The Doctor blinks at her as she all but tumbles from the bed, and Yaz sees her shake her head, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them as she stares at her, heart pounding. 

“Yaz? Were we just…!?”

“Yes Yaz,” the Master drawls, “What  _ were _ you just doing?”

Yaz stares between the Doctor and the Master, stomach rolling. “I’m - we - sh-she kissed me!” She manages to squeak out. “I didn’t mean - she just grabbed me!” She tells him urgently, cheeks burning as he strolls over to them. She scuttles backwards while the Master moves past her and leans down over the Doctor. 

“Hm, the pollen’s still in her system,” he comments, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. The Doctor sways towards him, eyelids fluttering. 

“Master…” She murmurs breathily, and Yaz doesn’t miss the sidelong look he throws smugly at her. 

She swallows hard, backing a little further away from them, thoughts in all sorts of a jumble and a knot in her stomach. 

“I - I thought - the Doctor said you’d gone,” she stammers, voice filled with uneasiness as she glances wide eyed at the Doctor. 

“He said he was leaving,” the Doctor offers, looking more coherent now the Master has dropped his hand from her face. 

“No, I said I was going for a shower. It’s not my fault you don’t listen.”

Yaz notices now that his dark hair is damp, and he’s bare except for a towel slung round his hips. Her face goes redder. 

“Aren’t you leaving then?” Yaz finds herself blurting out, hurt and embarrassment making her tone sharp and lips loose. 

“What’s it to you?” He grins. 

“You’re the Doctor’s worst enemy -“

“Best.”

“- and you’re wandering around the Tardis. I don’t like it. I don’t  _ trust you.” _

“You’re not quite as stupid as you look then,” he quips with a sly gin. 

“ _ Master,”  _ the Doctor chides. 

“Yes dear?” He reaches out to touch her face again, letting his fingertips caress her cheek, hand coming to cup her jaw and a thumb running over the Doctor’s lips. They part in a soft gasp and he gently tugs her bottom lip down, before releasing it, letting it spring back up and then pressing his thumb up between her lips. The Doctor sways forward with a moan, eyes locked on his as Yaz sees her bite down on it before taking it into her mouth and  _ sucking -  _

“Still here!” Yaz manages to squeak out, and two paris of eyes flick over to hers. The Master turns the Doctor’s face back to look at him and her attention is visibly snapped away from Yaz instantly, hands reaching up to tug at him. 

He laughs, and Yaz hates the sound with every fibre of her being. 

“So it seems,” drawls his delayed answer. “Well I’m probably going to have to fuck her again, so unless you want to watch…” he makes a shooeing motion with his hand in a way that’s both dismissive and utterly smug and Yaz’s face  _ burns  _ even as fury rises inside her.

Apparently not caring whether she did or not, the Master threads his hand into the Doctor’s hair and leans in to kiss her deeply. Yaz stares, eyes wide as the Doctor moans, clutching at him and she should  _ leave -  _ god she needs to go, needs to turn around and run from the room and shut the door because they were - she was - and the Master was lifting the covers and slipping between them, clambering up on top of the Doctor, pushing her back against the pillows. The towel that had been around his waist hits the floor and Yaz sees them shift beneath the covers, the Master settling between the Doctor’s legs and - Yaz had to  _ go - _

The Doctor breaks from the Master’s mouth to throw her head back, keening, and the realisation of  _ exactly  _ what she was watching take place hits Yaz like a bucket of ice water, snapping her out of her trance and sending her stumbling backwards, almost tripping over her own feet and smacking into the doorframe behind her. 

“I’m - I’ll -”

The Doctor’s head whips round to her at the noise, and hazel eyes that are darker and unsettlingly different to what Yaz is used to fix on her and grow wide as she realises what Yaz is witnessing. The Master places his hand on the Doctor’s cheek and turns her head back to look up at him, and she seems to forget about Yaz again entirely, letting out a shaky exhale. 

“Yes,” she breathes, tugging at his dark hair as he smirks down at her, “Fuck me…”

The door is slammed so hard behind her it rattles in its frame as Yaz staggers out into the hallway with a pounding heart, collapsing against the opposite wall with her hand against her chest. 

_ It should be me _ , Yaz thinks, vision blurring with tears,  _ he doesn’t deserve you _ . But then she remembers what the Doctor had said before, in the console room - how even if she wanted to, Yaz couldn’t help her because she wasn’t even the same  _ species _ as her. She feels stupid all over again as she thinks about those texts, and all the things the Doctor had been hiding from them - they still didn’t know who she was, not really. They didn’t know anything about her past, except now that she was apparently involved with a mass-murderer. They didn’t know anything about her - for all they knew,  _ she _ could be a mass-murderer too. 

Yaz knows her thoughts are spiraling and she’s being irrational, knows deep down that of course she isn’t, not the Doctor. - But she’s upset and hurt and angry - at herself more than anyone. What had she been thinking? Yaz was  _ human _ , the Doctor was an alien, and today that was more apparent than it had ever been. Taking a deep breath, and swallowing down the lump in her throat, Yaz turns and hurries away, leaving the Doctor and the Master alone together. 

\--

The Doctor can still feel the rush of endorphins and adrenaline the sap had injected into her blood, but it’s cooled somewhat from that initial burst, present but not as urgent. Just enough for her to be content with the Master’s body against hers and his cock inside her, rocking into her steadily - taking her as if she and he were different and this situation wasn’t simply to save her life. She wonders at that as he moves inside her; a little closer to making love than fucking this time. 

“What?” He snaps, and almost stops moving, urged on only by the heel she digs into his backside where her leg is curled over his waist. 

“Hm?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“You’re staring at  _ me.” _

“Because you were staring at  _ me _ .”

“How did you know if you weren’t staring at me too?”

“Because -” He looks irritated, huffs and pulls out of her, ignoring her whimper of protest to push at her shoulder. He’s trying to turn her over, she realises - probably so she can’t see his face. The Doctor resists, batting him off. 

“This is fine,” she mutters, pulling at the Master, trying to get him back inside her as her body starts to scream in protest. “Just keep going.”

He frowns down at her a moment, looks like he’s going to protest, then gives in and shifts on top of her, sliding back inside her. She wraps her legs around his waist again, locking her ankles together, shifting a little on the pillow the Master had shoved beneath her hips at some point and letting out a low groan when he withdraws before shoving back deep inside her. His strokes are deep and steady but faster now, her nails digging into his sides urging him on, his dark eyes locked onto her own. He grabs a handful of her hair, pulling her head up and to the side, exposing her pale neck to his mouth which he presses there, kissing her gently at first as he thrusts into her before he opens his mouth and lets his teeth scrape over her skin then latches on to one spot, sucking hard. 

The Doctor cries out as pleasure shoots through her, hand flying to the back of his head and tugging at his hair at the sharp pressure on her neck. Somewhere in the back of her mind she vaguely realises he’s going to leave an extremely dark mark behind, but in that moment she can’t find it within herself to give a damn, moaning softly and tilting her head back further, body arching up into his as an orgasm grips her and she convulses with pleasure. 

He looks smug when he pulls away and she lays panting and marked by his mouth, gasping as he continues to drive his hips into her. 

“You better not - drag this out again -” She manages to gasp out, squeezing her internal muscles around him in a warning. 

“Why?” He quips, “Got somewhere to be?”

The Doctor rolls her eyes with a huff, feeling her heart rates steadily increasing now. She bites back the ‘away from you’ that threatens to spill from her lips, realising that although it’s one of her favourite past times, now would not be the best time to goad him. 

“I’m just tired,” she offers instead, which is true, and apparently spoken honestly enough to make the Master falter, before he nods and braces himself on his forearms beside her to start driving his hips into her with more purpose. She comes twice more, once just before he reaches his own climax, and again as he spills inside her, his hot breath on her neck and pleasure-filled groan by her ear as his hips twitch into her enough to send her riding the waves of pleasure once more. 

When he pulls out and rolls off, she is sticky and sweaty and exhausted, but feels the tremble to her limbs start to calm, and gives a heavy sigh. 

“Feel better?” 

The Doctor lays on her back next to the Master, both of them panting, and sweat cooling on their forms. 

She nods, trying to catch her breath. “Yeah.” She can feel her heart rates steadying out, and the rapid pumping of her blood round her veins slowing. She hopes that’s it, that the last of the sap is out of her system now, because her body really was starting to feel exhausted, not to mention sore and achy. 

The Master reaches out and presses a hand to her forehead before picking up her wrist and feeling for her pulse. 

“Hmph,” he comments, apparently satisfied, dropping her hand a moment later. He swings his legs out of the bed and disappears off, and when he returns a few moments later he’s pulling her upright and pressing a glass of water into her hands. 

A bit baffled, the Doctor takes it, drinking a few gulps gratefully. 

“Th-thanks,” she mutters when she hands it back to him, and the Master drinks a little himself before setting it down and flopping back onto the bed with a satisfied groan. 

Settling back down next to him, the Doctor clears her throat. “And thanks as well for - you know,” she stumbles over her words a bit. “I’m glad you came. And that you helped me. Even if you did nearly kill me.”

She can hear the smile in his words when he replies; “Would you have expected anything less?”

“No,” she sighs, and a short pause settles over them. 

“How did you know I’d help you?” He suddenly asks after a moment, genuine curiosity in his words, like the thought had only just occurred to him. 

The Doctor shifts, biting her lip, unsure if that’s something she should admit. She’d kind of always assumed it was something they both knew but went unspoken - the fact that he loved her and always had. That all his schemes and plots and destruction was just a way to get her attention, twisted though it may be (would she still love him in return if he was anything but?)

Instead, she swallows and throws him a smirk. “It’s like you said. I knew you couldn’t resist seeing me like that. And I knew you’d revel in having that power over me far too much to walk away once you realised what happened.”

“I could have just let you die,” he muses.

“Mmm,” the Doctor agrees. “You could have.”

The Master is silent beside her, and when a few moments have passed and it doesn’t seem likely he’s going to continue, she reaches down with a sigh and drags the duvet up over her cooling body. 

“Anyway,” she says, rolling onto her side away from him. “I’m good now. Think I’m probably gonna sleep the rest of it off, feel a bit knackered to be honest. You can go.”

There’s a pause that stretches out, until she feels the bed dip and move and thinks he is getting up to start getting dressed, until she realises he’s sliding beneath the duvet with her instead. 

She turns, bewildered frown in place, “Wha -”

“Reckon I’m due a sleep too, actually. It’s been a while. If you don’t mind,” he adds, like he’s suddenly unsure. Hearing the Master sound unsure about  _ anything _ is so bizarre, the Doctor can only blink for a moment. 

“I don’t mind,” she finally manages. 

Why  _ didn’t _ she mind? He was her mortal enemy, and despite knowing how he felt about her (despite how she felt about him), she still didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him - he was far too unpredictable for that. He had helped her today - but he hadn’t exactly made that easy, in fact he  _ had _ very nearly killed her in the process (and she was still a bit cross about that) and yet… she finds herself settling down, eyes drifting closed, and body subconsciously wriggling back a little just like she had before into the Master’s arms. 

\--

Dressed, refreshed and thankfully, totally back to normal the next day, the Doctor would deny there was a little spring in her step as she strolls towards the console room. 

“Oh,” she says, faltering a bit when she reaches it in surprise at the three faces gazing at her from over by the console. She feels herself go warm as the Master enters behind her. - She’d been hoping to shoo him out before her friends could emerge, a little embarrassed that they’d spent the whole night together. “Fam. You’re all here. Didn’t think you’d be up yet.”

They glance at each other. “It’s pretty late Doc,” Graham says.

“Right! Yes, course it is.” She ducks her head, hurrying over to the console with her cheeks a bit pink. “Ummm - he was just - he’s just leaving.”

“Sounds like that’s my cue,” the Master sighs like he’s dreadfully disappointed but he’s grinning like it’s a private joke as he saunters over to the console after her. He steps up next to her, hand going to her lower back as he leans in to kiss her like that’s something they do. It is  _ not.  _

“Get off,” the Doctor mumbles, shoving at him irritably.

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” he smirks.

“I was -  _ drugged!”  _ She splutters.

“Or this morning - you weren’t still drugged then -“

“ _ Out! _ ”

He goes, laughing as the Doctor’s cheeks burn and she resolutely avoids her friends’ eyes. The Master pauses at the door of her Tardis, turning to face her. 

“Oh,” he says, like he’s just remembered something, “I guess you don’t want to know why I did it then…?”

Her insides going cold at his words - knowing exactly what he’s referring to and stomach dropping at the mention of their desolated planet, the Doctor’s head snaps up to stare at him, eyes wide. 

“What’s he talking about Doctor?” Yaz speaks up. There is something in her tone - suspicion she hadn’t heard there before (and they really were going to have to talk after this, weren’t they) but now is not the moment to try and unpack any of that, too intent on what the Master is suddenly offering. She ignores her, eyes fixed on the Master. 

“Why?” She asks with pounding hearts. 

The Master stares back at her a moment, his own face solomn and eyes dark. And then he breaks into a grin.    
“Not telling you.”

His laugh echoes out into the Tardis as he spins and slips through the door, letting it swing shut with a bang as the Doctor tears after him. She hauls the door open, frantic - but he is gone, his own Tardis just dematerialising in front of her own. 

The console room is quiet when the Doctor reluctantly turns round to face her friends after a moment, silently seething. She briefly meets their eyes before looking away, clearing her throat as she hurries up to the console so she can busy herself with fiddling with the controls and (hopefully) avoid the million questions she’s almost certain she’s got coming at her. 

“So,” Graham is the first to speak up, and she sighs quietly, mentally bracing herself. “Sex pollen, eh?”

Apparently not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end! Thank you so so much for the wonderful response to this fic I reallyyy appreciate all the comments and kudos so much!! You all inspire me to keep writing so much!
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the third and final part, I know this one was a little different haha but I really hope you all liked it!


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